


Come Rain or Shine

by Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real



Series: Suburban Robots [4]
Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Domestic Fluff, Fantastic Racism, Gen, Implied Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-11-29 06:29:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real/pseuds/Almost_Convinced_I_Am_Real
Summary: Being a robot in an otherwise human world isn’t all roses. Sometimes, the rain will threaten to drown you. And at other times, all you need is a friend to shield you from the storm.





	Come Rain or Shine

The young cashier smiles when she tells Thomas their total. Red text flashes on his visor as he pays, making her smile wider. Guy-Man moves down the checkout lane to bag their articles, the cashier and Thomas' light laughter muddling into the racket of the busy store behind him. They haven’t gotten any groceries, obviously, unless you count Flute's cat food. Detergent, batteries, rags, and a light bulb to replace the one in the living room, carefully placed on top of the cans. The neighboring kids were visiting when the old one went out (All. Three. Of them.); they were very disappointed when he revealed that neither he nor Thomas had night vision. "Sure, LED faces are cool," René had said, even after he specifically told her it _wasn't_ LED, "but night vision is better. Like, in every way. You should file a complaint to whoever handles your upgrades."

Good god, that girl was annoying. Especially since she wasn't wrong. And thus, night vision had moved to the top of their list, although they technically don't need it due to already having proximity sensors. Still, night vision wouldn't be unpractical.

Of course, sometimes technology is superfluous. Sometimes you just _know_.

Guy-Man's head snaps up. Three elderly people start as their staring eyes meet his visor. One of the women grabs the man's wrist and drags him with her, both of their faces beet red. The third woman throws the remainder of her articles into her shopping cart, gaze darting between the trolley and Guy-Man, who continues to watch her until she hightails it out of there.

How long were they gawking? Did they say something about him? He thought he heard someone whispering, but he can't be sure...

A soft hand brushes against his shoulder blade.

"Well, time to go!" Thomas says. He takes the shopping bag in his right hand, the left one already carrying their umbrella, and makes his way towards the exit, his head held high and his steps light. At least he didn't notice, Guy-Man thinks as he follows.

Outside, the thick clouds have darkened. The moisture hangs heavy in the air. It'll definitely rain, if not now then later tonight. The fact doesn't improve Guy-Man's mood. He shouldn't let it bother him. Hell, he shouldn't even _think_ about it. But it's hard. Most people they meet are very polite about it. Children are more often than not delighted. Adolescents and young adults are generally fascinated. Older people are likely to be either amused or bemused, but graciously so.

And then there’s the ones who stare in fear. Who frowns with palpable disgust.

As much as he tries, it's impossible to ignore all of the time.

It’s ridiculous, though. They aren't even that different from before. They still need to rest. They still need to "ingest", lest they run out of energy. They can still feel pain. Not like they used to, and they obviously don't bleed any more, but going too long without charging causes a throbbing in their heads. Unexpectedly bumping against something leaves a slight pressure on their limbs for a while afterwards. All right, maybe that isn’t pain, but... They still feel it!

Perhaps "sense" is a more correct term. They can sense when they were being hit or thumped. Then their memories tell them that pain had once followed, and they simply... imagine it so vividly that they feel it again. A new kind of phantom pain.

They decide to take the route through the park. It's a bit of a detour, but not by much. They aren't in a hurry, and they – Guy-Man in particular – want one more look at the greenery and the flowers before autumn hits and everything wilts.

A mild wind blows past them. Chilly, most likely. Guy-Man automatically zips up his jacket, despite the fact he can't feel the cold – only assume it. If they somehow were to lose all of their shame one day, they could go outside without wearing a single thread and still not notice any differences. It might be worth trying, just to see people's reactions. Could be entertaining.

A few days after the incident, he'd tried to snort. The reason why has slipped his mind, but the snort itself... It was a mix between the sound of air being forced out his vents, the sound he thought would come, and the sound that actually happened – his voice making a strange, suffocated noise. Honestly, he's not sure he could describe it, but he'll never forget it. It took him a number of attempts before he succeeded to replicate what had once been something natural. He had to use only his vents, not his voice box, like when he "sighed", except the air had to be expelled more forcefully, more abrupt. It still didn't sound right.

They're halfway through the park when the first drop of water plunks onto Guy-Man's head and trickles down his face. Thomas begins his attempts to open the old umbrella, a task that isn't made easier by him having his other hand full as well. The plonking and plopping around them increases. At last, Guy-Man takes the barely opened umbrella from his partner and forces it open with an alarming noise in tow. They'll have to buy a new one, another day.

Thomas shrugs one apologetic shoulder. Oops, sorry, lights up his visor. Guy-Man shakes his head whilst Thomas chuckles. He's a bit too tall to stand underneath the umbrella while Guy-Man is holding it – his head bumps against the canopy, the stretchers scrape it. He doesn't care though, and they continue on, the grocery bag rustling as Thomas swings it back and forth between them and the umbrella remaining in Guy-Man's hand.

At one point, he forgot how to laugh. At least, he forgot how to do it out loud. In his head, he could still do all the sounds and noises he'd done before, but now...

So he had to learn how to do it again, both of them did. Thomas managed faster than Guy-Man did. Even so, having to learn something that just weeks ago had been second nature to them... It was nonsensical. Like a cruel joke.

"Do you ever miss it?" Guy-Man asks.

Thomas doesn't answer the half-made question – after all, as clever as he might be, he isn't a mind reader. No, he merely continues to observe the gray sky, patiently waiting for Guy-Man to finish his thought. Guy-Man's fingers curl tighter around the umbrella handle. He counts the raindrops as he hears them hit the ground.

"Not being able to be in the rain without rusting."

Thomas' head makes a small, twitching jerk, or perhaps a jerky twitch, in Guy-Man's direction, just enough for him to enter Thomas' line of sight. Guy-Man stares straight ahead, gripping the umbrella with an almost frantic vigor. Had he still been human, his hand would've begun to smart by now.

"Sometimes."

Thomas' voice is quiet. It melts together with the drizzling and the sloshing mud beneath their boots. Slowing his steps somewhat, he switches the plastic bag from one hand to the other, the newly freed hand instead wrapping around Guy-Man's waist. Guy-Man's manic hold loosen as he senses the warmth from Thomas' body against his side.

"But it always stops when the sun reappears."

**Author's Note:**

> Idea came to me after seeing [this artwork](https://keitothekraken.tumblr.com/post/162570776509/here-comes-the-sunshine-sorry-its-so-messy-i).


End file.
